


Haunted Vines

by serenesavagery (windrunnerdreamer)



Series: Adolin Speardancer and Kaladin Kholin [2]
Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Angst, Bleak, Gen, Heavy Angst, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 09:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windrunnerdreamer/pseuds/serenesavagery
Summary: Sticks and stones could not break men.Only men could.





	Haunted Vines

The vines, Adolin thought in annoyance, were _storming_ persistent.

  
Ever since that day, ever since storming _Amaram_, the vines hadn’t left his arm.

  
Even though it had been more than eight months.

  
They were now a part of him. The Slave In Vines he was called.

  
Fifteen escape attempts.

  
Adolin didn’t want to give up- surely the Almighty wouldn’t let him suffer so.

  
Right?

  
Surely the Almighty wasn’t so cruel so as to let someone like Amaram escape his crimes and let Adolin lose his soul?

  
Surely?

  
But Adolin knew the truth.

  
The Almighty had never storming cared.

  
It was true- the Almighty favored lighteyes.

  
_“Even though Roshone broke at the death of his son?”_ A traitorous voice spoke to him, and Adolin clenched his jaw, leaning against the walls.

  
Were lighteyes even human?

  
Adolin felt haunted- was the truth even true? What was right and what was wrong?

  
The vines softened their hold on him, almost as if trying to comfort him.

  
Adolin chuckled roughly. As if he could even understand comfort, for all that those storming lighteyes took away his brain and played with it like a play toy before throwing it into some rubble or the other.

He was growing mad, wasn't he? Imagining that vines could comfort him? 

  
_“Adolin…you can’t let yourself become like this…”_

  
Adolin smirked dully. He was hearing someone speak to him in his own mind.

  
_“Hallucinations are usually the bearing of severe trauma…” _

  
That proved it. He had storming gone mad, storming descended into Damnation.

  
And nothing could save him.

  
_“Thanks a lot, Amaram. Thanks a lot, Roshone. Maybe the Tranquiline Halls will herald you for breaking a few darkeyes.”_ Adolin thought sardonically, staring at his cage.

  
He thought he could hear weeping at the back of his mind.

  
His own? Father’s? Or Mother’s?

  
What did it matter, Adolin thought, his eyes burning.

  
He couldn’t be saved.


End file.
